Chapter 1 - The Shattered Glass

Roman’s massive hand tightened around the cheap glass vase.
Sadie held her breath as the water rippled dangerously near the rim.
She could hear the faint, sickening sound of the glass beginning to crack under his immense pressure.
"He is just a boy who delivers bread," Sadie whispered, her voice trembling in the dark kitchen.
Roman’s dark eyes finally shifted from the pink carnations to her pale face.
"Toby Rossi is a low-level runner for the Moretti family," Roman said, his voice completely devoid of emotion.
Sadie felt all the blood drain from her face.
The Morettis were the Costa family’s oldest and deadliest rivals.
"He used those pathetic flowers to map out my security cameras," Roman explained, taking a step closer to her.
The glass vase in his hand suddenly shattered into a hundred jagged pieces.
Water, crushed pink petals, and drops of bright red blood cascaded onto the pristine marble floor.
Roman did not even flinch as a shard of glass sliced deep into his palm.
He simply dropped the remaining pieces and backed Sadie entirely up against the refrigerator.
"You are no longer sleeping in the basement," he commanded, looming over her.
"I am moving you to the guest suite on the second floor, right across from my bedroom."
Sadie shook her head frantically, knowing that being elevated from the staff quarters was a death sentence in this house.
"Please, Mr. Costa, I didn't know who he was," she pleaded, tears welling in her eyes.
"That is exactly why you will stay where I can see you at every second of the day," Roman replied, wiping his bloody hand on his expensive trousers.
He turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving her alone in the dark with the ruined flowers.
Sadie scrambled upstairs to her new, lavishly decorated room, her heart pounding with sheer terror.
She opened the massive mahogany closet to look for a blanket.
Hanging dead center in the empty closet was a stunning, blood-red silk gown.
May you like
Pinned to the fabric was a handwritten note that made her stomach drop.
"Wear this to dinner tomorrow night, or the bakery boy dies."